Misadventures of Space
by QuiGonJinnandTonic
Summary: QuiGon lives! anakin's wierd, obiwan's tired, odd hats and Bantha poop. Come read, you know you want to! REVIEW! Hey! Chappi 4 is now POSTED!
1. the death of Maul

"We'll take care of this." That was an odd statement. Just a few seconds ago, I had been thinking I was getting too old for this. So why did I say that? Jedi reflex, I guess. My apprentice, Obi-Wan, nodded in agreement and looked eager to slice this guy to ribbons. I was almost going to let him; I had already fought this freak on Tatooine, and I wasn't about to do it again. But I couldn't let my padawan go up against a full Sith lord, I'd never see all of him again. Suddenly, I remembered Anakin. I'd found that kid on Tatooine, brought him into this life-or-death mission with us, and told him to stay in the cockpit a aircraft he had climbed into. In retrospect, I really shouldn't have brought him along, or told the others to leave when I feel like I'm ready to fall asleep here and now. Hope my narcolepsy doesn't kick in, although it wound be interesting to see his reaction when the Jedi he's fighting suddenly falls sound asleep.

well, I wouldn't see it, I'd be asleep.

Oh well, I'll probably die anyways.

Suddenly, laser blasts shattered the walls and floor around us, one of the blasts tore right through the surprised Sith Lord. Debris fell on Obi-Wan and I, knocking the poor kid unconscious.

The Sith-guy wasn't dead, but close to it.

I turned around just in time to see the aircraft Anakin had been sitting in fly away, its cannons smoking. I walked up to the Sith and drove my lightsaber into him a few times, to, umm, _ease_ his passing. Thank goodness Obi-Wan was out cold and didn't see my complete disregard for Jedi rules (a Jedi should not kill unless he has no other choice, blahblahblah…). I walked over to him, woke him, and preceded to apply bacta and bandage his wounds. He was grazed deeply in a few places and looked a little dazed from the debris that fell on his head, but he was ok. "What?" he asked, I shook my head and pointed to the Sith, "our little friend took care of him." I said. "Where did he go?" asked obi-wan. I shrugged. "Are you ok?" He nodded, looking at the Sith's body. "It looks like laser holes, but they're kinda small for laser cannon blasts, looks almost like—"

"A lightsaber? Don't be silly! _That_ cannon obviously has smaller blasters!" I said. Obi-Wan nodded, "Oh, Ok."

Well, as you can imagine, there are many not-so-oblivious Jedi at the Temple who did in fact recognize the lightsaber wounds. Dropping off a Sith at the Temple with saber wounds oft leaves some wondering exactly what happened, especially when obi-wan vehemently concluded neither of us had touched him. After with the paperwork, analysis, psychiatric help(facing a Sith can be very tiring to one's sanity at times), we were finally done with the matter and the Sith, Darth What's-his-name was placed in some kind of fluid(similar to formaldehyde, the chemical that classroom frogs maraschino cherries are kept in) to keep him 'fresh'.

Later that year, I was in the room of a Thousand Fountains (why it has such a long name? I don't know, and there aren't even a thousand fountains, I checked.), someone ran smack into me. It was that little brat we picked up on Tatooine, I didn't know that kid was still here. Hmmm…… "Mister Qui-Gon sir? I have a message for you, Master Yoda asked me to give it to you." said the runt in his most annoyingly adorable way that made me feel kinda bad for calling him a runt. "Thank you." I replied, taking the message. He fidgeted slightly as I read it:

Dear Master Qui-Gon, decided the council has to let you take the kid as your apprentice, seeing as how you found him and all….oh, and you guys seem to be a good match. Oh, and obi-wan is taking his trials, if he comes back alive, he ain't your apprentice anymore.

Well, got to go, sure I am that you two will have fun.

Oh, come to the Council room sometime this month you must, have a mission for you two, the council does. But, not until finished psychotherapy have.

Was what the note said, hastily handwritten by the old Jedi Master himself. Anakin was still fidgeting, only now he had gotten worse and started standing on one leg at a time. This kid's a little too weird for me, oh well, "Quit that fidgeting, my apprentices need to be patient and not fidgeters, or I take 'em back." I said. His eyes went big as saucers (well, not quite, that's humanly impossible, but you get the idea.) "I'm your apprentice!" he asked with excitement**. "Yes," **I said.

Wow, this kid is something else. He did an odd kind of skip/jump thingy before he ran back down the path and out of the room. I shookmy head.

ok, he may be kinda weird, but he's a good apple (or, uh, muja fruit)

After a good night's sleep, exercise, breakfast and training, it was 7:00 A.M., and, I decided, time to go to the Council meeting. Anakin met me there, sporting a short haircut and the start of a padawan braid. We walked inside, there were only two members there, Mace Windu, who's startlingly colorful hat in the shape of a flamingo was perched solidly on his shaved head. And Yoda, with his green and yellow polka-dotted skin, was looking very healthy as well. "You're looking very healthy today Master Yoda." Anakin said. I smiled; shared thoughts were the first step in a healthy master-padawan relationship, as was the traditional Christmas cookie-baking ceremony, but one thing at a time. besides, its only July "Have you accepted Anakin as your padawan?" Mace asked, his dark serious look was quite a contrast to his bright pink hat, which Yoda was starring at, disgusted. "Yes." I replied, hiding a smile. "Why are you hiding a smile? Is my hat that humorous?" mace asked. I shook my head. Really, why wear such a thing if you're gonna get so upset when someone bursts out laughing at it? He's never really made much sense.

Oh, back to the meeting.

"Well, we've got a mission for you two, if you choose to accept it."


	2. poor ObiWan and other inconveniances

Disclaimer- i don't own anything reconizable!

This is my first fic, so please review, tell what ou think what ya hate, or what you had for lunch, just say something!

Warning: This chapter contains some rude Jedi, Bantha poop, colourful hats, and mild hyperness.

This being said, please read.

I stumbled into the Temple almost a month after I had left. I heard Anakin and Qui-Gon had gone on their first mission as Master and padawan.  
Aawwww, how sweet: I need to go to the medic.  
Apart from the huge gash on my arm (which is **_still_** bleeding at an alarming rate), the mission was fine, and I am now a knight.

Obi-Wan Kenobi- Jedi knight; I love the sound of that.

As I was in the medic center (I told you--- my arm) I realized that I was no longer a kid. I was no longer anyone's padawan and Qui-Gon couldn't tell me what to do! Haha! What shall I do with this time? train, meditate, switch all of Mace's hat stands to where they are all still there just slightly different? No, I did that before I left chuckle

Sleep, yeah, sleep sounds good.

And for five minutes, I did sleep, until I was rudely interrupted by someone idiot wearing a ridiculous hat that looked like a rainbow coloured penguin. "Whoa!" I said unwittingly, for it was Mace Windu, one of the most powerful Jedi in the universe, and keeper of the most ridiculous hats in the universe (well, I'm guessing in the universe, if there are stranger hats anywhere, I'd like to see them.) Mace got a very serious look in his eyes, 'uh, oh,' it thought. Mace _hates_ it when people have a normal reaction to one of his hats.

"I hope that "Whoa!" was not directed at my hat, but rather my rather serious expression." He said, pointing to his face. "Whatever you say, Macy" I replied, rubbing my eyes.

"Quit calling me that!" he said, his eyes filling with fire.

"Whatever."

"Anyways, the temple has a mission for you." he said.

"Already? I just got back, like, an hour ago!" I replied.

"Well, we don't have many Jedi left, so many, many missions. Be in the council room at eight o'clock, standard time, of course." He said and walked away.

Darn it, he would probably give me a crappy mission just 'cause I had an impolite reaction to his head gear. Well, he's a Jedi, he wouldn't do something like that. It's sure to be forbidden _somewhere_ in the Code.

Right?

"That's the crappiest mission ever!" I exclaimed after the Council told me of my assignment.

The mission was to go to a little known galaxy and help the natives of some tiny, unimportant planet, negotiate the removal of, get this, massive mounds of _Bantha_ poop! Apparently, during the pointless civil war (this planet had probably twenty inhabitants), one of the sides dumped the excrement on the other's troops, and now that the war is over (somebody married somebody else and ended the war. Why didn't they do that in the first place?), the question is still at hand, who will clean up the crap? The side that dumped says the other should because it's on their land. The other says it should be the dumping side because you make the mess, you clean it up. So now **_I_** need to sort this out. I hope its winter there……

"Why does it have to be me?" I asked (whined).

"Because you're a rookie and you need an easy mission." Mace said, trying to hide that mischievous glint in his eye. I gave him and evil glance. Yoda saw the exchange, and gave me a sympathetic look, he also gave a disgusted glare to the two-foot tall blue and red flamingo perched on mace's hat, and staring forebodingly at Yoda.

I regarded the hat, politely this time. I wasn't going to take a chance on Mace making ME clean up the poop.

Still……

"Campdown lady sing that song, doodah-doodah, the campdown podrace track's five miles loooooooong, oh the doodah-day!" I sang. It was my fifth rendition of the song. I looked at Qui-Gon jinn, my new master and found him rubbing his temples in with a pained look on his face. I wonder what's wrong with him, especially since he joined in for the first two verses of the song, he probably didn't know there 15 more and soon was quiet. "Anakin, must you sing **_AGAIN_**. You've been singing since we left Coruscant." He said. I paused in the song for a moment. "Ok master." I said. Qui-gon smiled. "Now, our mission is…." He had barely gotten these words out before falling asleep. And falling me. I was nearly suffocated by his hair, why is it so long? After pushing the large Jedi with the crazy hair away from me, I tried to calm myself down, but I'm sooooo excited. My first mission, my first mission, my first mission, hey, hey, hey, hey! Ok, sit, yes sit down, be good, calm little Jedi!

"Hey, kid!" called the pilot. "Yeah?" I replied. "Would you mind getting me some coffee?" he asked. "Coffee?" what's that?

"Yeah, it's the hot black liquid in the funny shaped metal container." He clarified. "Oh!" I remembered. "Ok!" There was a large thermos by the coffee-thingy, I filled it up and took it to the pilot. "Thanks kid." He said gratefully. "Soooo, what does coffee do?" I asked.

"Look kid, I don't need you in here asking what stuff does, or trying to guess which switch controls the pitch, ok? Thanks for the coffee, get out." He replied, with tired annoyance echoing in the tiny cockpit. I pouted for a second, but he wasn't looking, so I left.

I stared at the coffee-thingy for a good long while before a brilliant thought caught me. I grabbed a small durastyrofoam cup and filled it to the top with the steamy liquid.

If he won't _tell_ me what coffee does, I'll just have to see for myself………


	3. Macy's Mare

Something's different, something elusive……. but not elsewhere…thought Mace Windu as he walked through the Temple. He walked slowly to his quarters; there were ripples in the Force. Dark ripples, like hot fudge melting strawberry ice cream…..

They were coming from his hats! He pushed the door opening button and the door opened slowly. He drew his saber, ready for anything. At least he thought he was.

But what his eyes beheld, he could have never readied himself for! Yoda was slowly, _gleefully_, chopping the head of his blue-and-red flamingo hat!

Mace let out a cry of anguish, such and ending for his favourite hat!

He drew his saber and lunged at the two-foot tall figure who had taken no notice of him and was now dismembering the decapitated flamingo.

Suddenly a hard thump sent him flying back to reality.

It was only a dream, and he had fallen off his sleep-couch.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he got up and looked around, all his hats were still there, happily sitting on their stands, but in a slightly different order.

"Obi-Wan." Mace thought immediately.

Obi-Wan chuckled slightly to himself, thinking of what crazy dreams Mace would be having when the hat balance in the room was off. Still smiling stupidly, he walked off the transport and onto quite possibly the ugliest planet ever. Even Tatooine would win if these two went up against each other. The inhabitants weren't much more interesting or attractive as they greeted him with bored expressions and made their way over to the "Council room" which looked to obi-Wan as though an enormous cat had recently had a bad attack of furballs in the vicinity and the people took it into their minds to promptly made their council house, and other living quarters out of the cat sick.

The structures didn't smell much better either.

They asked him to sit, but since the chair was sticky and slightly squishy, he thought it better to stand before he caught something terrible. The inhabitants argued slowly amongst themselves for over and hour and Obi-wan was getting tired. Finally, he had to break in, "Look! Both sides make…excellent… arguments, but I think it would be up to the age-old tradition of heads or tails." The group looked at him as if he had sprouted antlers and was speaking in Hungarian, they had accepted him as one of their own. "What…..sort of…..heads and tails, eh? Well………" began the leader. Obi-Wan paused him and took a shiny new credit from his utility belt. "Call it sir, or uh, ma'am," he said as he flipped the coin into the air. "Taaaaaaaails" the being replied.

"Heads!" Obi-Wan said triumphantly. One leader hung its head, the other looked on wonderment, "Such magic……"

Obi-Wan nodded, "well, I'd love to stay and all that but I'm afraid I really must dash.." he backed towards the door slowly as the two leaders signed a contract. They barely looked up as obi-wan boarded his ship and left.

Finally, off that stupid planet. I was there about three hoursthe longest hours of my _entire_ life. he thought, setting the ship on auto-pilot and curling up in the seat to take a nap. One thought occurred to him just before he closed his eyes:

'I'll have to make one damn good excuse for being gone one day.'

Maybe its time he took a vacation…..

The hot liquid burned down my throat, it tasted bitter. Hmmmm, I put some sugar in it, a little better, more sugar, _little_ more….. that's good. Qui-Gon began to wake up, so I chugged the rest of the coffee, throwing the small cup in the trash receptacle, and crunched sugar crystals in my teeth.

"—to go to Rodan and capture the bad guy basically." I nearly jumped out of my skin as Qui-gon sat up suddenly and started speaking. "Oh?" I replied. Qui-Gon nodded, "Yes."

"Ok."

We looked at each other for a moment, my eye twitched.

That kid gets weirder by the minute, I swear. His eye started to twitch, then, not a moment later, he was literally bouncing off the walls, singing some sort of crazy song.

Or maybe he was just rambling in tune.

"Anakin? Are you ok?" I asked. He stopped bouncing on the furniture for a second to answer, "Yeah, I'm ok. Ok, ok, ok, I'm ok, how are you? Mister Qui-Gon how are you today? Me I'm just fine, just fine just fine…." He replied, and began to jump around the cabin more. he jumped off the couch with such force, and probably Force-assisted, that he stayed in the air for several seconds. "No, Nap, nap sounds good, sleepy, yeah sleepy, nap sounds good." he promptly closed his eyes and put his hands up to his face to cradle his head. Suddenly, his eyes popped open again, "Nope, wake sounds good." He said and caught the arm of the couch with his foot, propelling him into the air.

Hmmmm, this is odd behavior, even for that nut of a kid.

I raised my eyebrow as I tried to figure out what he had done.

"I feel a tingle in my fingers……I think it's affecting me…." Came a small voice about my head. Anakin was sitting a ceiling fan blade, staring at his fingers with wide eyes. Apparently, he hadn't meant to say anything aloud.

"Anakin, did you do anything, or eat or drink anything out of the ordinary?" I asked looking up at him. "No." Anakin said, hanging upside down form the blade. "You sure?" I asked, before the boy could reply, the ceiling fan fell from the ceiling. Anakin deftly broke his fall, on me. Out of habit, I sniffed the boy, "Anakin, have you been drinking coffee?" I asked, Anakin thought for a moment, "yeah." He replied, spitting out a bit of my hair that had landed in his mouth. "From whom?" I asked, anyone who gave coffee to this kid had to be severely out of their gourd. "The pilot." He said pointing towards the window. He looked where he was pointing and repositioned his finger towards the cockpit.

I got up, and walked calmly into the cockpit, where the pilot was sipping a thermos, most likely full of coffee. "Pilot, I would **_very_** much appreciate it if you _didn't_ give my apprentice any coffee, he's literally bouncing off the walls." I said, the pilot looked confused, then shocked, he jumped up and looked out into the cabin. Anakin had decided nap was better and now lay sucking his thumb. "Like I said…" I began, but he cut me off.

"You don't understand! It's decaf!"

Hey peoples! What do you think of the story so far? like it, hate it? please review!

P.S. I haven't been writing long (about six months actually, and THIS is my 1st. attempt at comedy...) so please be gentle if you can find it in your heart to review...

P.P.S. please note, this story is for entertainment purposes only, it is not meant to have any sort of a plot! but new characters situations and idiocy _are_ coming, so stay tuned!


	4. QuiGon's Riteous 'Fro

Qui-Gon and Anakin landed on the planet nearly six hours later. Anakin slept off and on, sleep interrupted by brief moments of bouncing on his sleep-couch. Qui-Gon vowed he would never, EVER let the boy come anywhere near, caffeine, or the lack thereof.

They stepped off the ship, and walked east, to the diner where their contact worked. "Master, why do have to get a contact? Why can't we just walk off the ship and find people?" Anakin asked, straightening a poncho Qui-Gon had given him when they landed. It was beige, and hung to the ground. "Because there are too many people to focus on just one would take too long, especially in this crowded market place," he replied waving his hand around the dang crowded market place, smacking someone in the face, "But I wish we could do that. How freaking awesome would that be?" Qui-Gon asked himself. "Pretty dang awesome." he answered himself.

"You wanna buy some death sticksssssss?" asked a voice behind them, it was the guy Qui-Gon had accidentally slapped. "You don't want to sell me death sticks." he said, with a slight move of his hand. The guy looked confused, "Of course I wanna sell you death sticks, why the hell else would I ask you if you wanted to buy some! But you know what? I wanna go home and rethink my life." He said, running away.

Qui-Gon and anakin stepped into the café where their contact worked. It was dark, mellow music played in the background. They sat at the counter, on small oddly-shaped stools. A person was speaking in hushed, rhyming tones on the stage, a spot light made it possible to see the beatnik. Her black beret and purple sunglasses disappeared as she walked off the stage, directly past them. "Cameron?" Qui-Gon asked, trying to read the name of their contact of the datapad in the dim light. The beatnik turned her head, red hair whipped Anakin in the face as she did, "Chameleon, friend, but who are you is the question." She said, gesturing with her hands. "We're the Jedi that came to catch the bad guy." Anakin replied helpfully and adorably, in his too long poncho. A smile tugged at the beatnik's lips, but died. "Oh, right. Look, I'm supposed to go around town with you guys, but man, your totally looking like an out-of-towner. You're gonna need an updated look. Go to this place," she said, handing him a card, "ask for Chareese, say I sent you, and come back tomorrow." She said, walking away. Qui-Gon nodded and pulled his hood over his head. He took Anakin outside and led him down the street, to a hair shop. "Hmmm." Qui-Gon said profoundly, before stepping inside. He went to the front desk where a young girl was filing. Her nails. He put the card on the counter and asked for Chareese. He explained Chameleon had sent him.

Chareese, was a humanoid with long red fingernails and dark curly fair. She seemed nearly forty, about Qui-Gon's age, in standard years. The humanoid fingered Qui-Gon's hair and rolled her eyes, "Honey, what have you done to this poor hair? Do you condition? No. you might as well put on a blue, pointy hat and be singing, 'If I Only Had a Brain'." she said with a slight lisp. Qui-Gon gave a confused look to Anakin, who just shrugged. He looked back to the humanoid, slightly wary of those long fingernails. She looked at the clock and ushered Qui-Gon to a chair, "Come on darlin', we haven't got all day, especially now that I have to do something with this!" she said, sitting Qui-Gon in a chair. She set some sort of round devices in Qui-gon's hair and let it set while she went to the back of the shop and found some clothes. "We do undercover work all the time, here's some clothes that'll fit, you can wear them home or bring em' back if you like, just wear em' here, nobody takes too kindly to Jedi." Chareese explained over the hair dryer as he set some clothes before qui-gon. Once his hair was dry, qui-Gon tried the clothes: baggy pants made of some sort of thick blue material, a white wife-beater, a long plaid shirt, and some 'skata shoes'. All the clothes seemed three sizes too big.

Even for the 6'4 Jedi; the clothes barely clung to his frame. Then Chareese took the rollers out of his hair and teased it a bit, adding quite enough hair spray.

Anakin's eyes widened and he tried to suppress a smile. "Uh oh…..." Qui-Gon thought, "This doesn't seem good."

Suddenly, his chair spun around and he faced a mirror. He stared in shock. His hair defied gravity, all of it stood straight up, in 15-inch-tall, curly, frizzy ball of hair that sat on his head. There was a silver hair pick that seemed to be permanently stuck in the side of this monster. He reached up and touched the hairdo.

He stood and nodded at Chareese, having nothing to say and feeling he might cry or do something equally unJedi-like, then looked at his padawan, giving him a warning glance. Anakin was having a terrible time trying to disguise his laughter. Qui-Gon packed up his Jedi robes in his pack and walked out of the shop, to face the world.

"Righteous 'fro man!" someone yelled, running by.

"Duuuuuuuuuuude….." said a juvenile delinquent, giving Qui-Gon the 'rock on' sign with her fingers.

Qui-Gon had it in mind to shave his head; he wasn't quite sure how he was going to get all that product out of his hair.

On the way to a motel for the night, Qui-gon decided it was in his best interest to buy a hat from one of the street vendors. But the only one he could find that was cover his hair was a bright purple newsboy. He bought it, but decided it was almost as bad as the hair.

The vendor assured him it was the latest fashion though, and proved his point by pointing out other men Qui-Gon's age with his hairdo or hat.

It still wasn't very comforting.

He shoved his hair into the hat and walked quickly back to the hotel.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light and Anakin giggled. He had taken a picture of his master on his camera-comlink! Qui-gon grabbed the comlink. Too late. Anakin had already sent the picture to Obi-wan, Mace Windu, Yoda, all of his friends, and the Temple Archives. He shook his head and walked into his room, turned off his comlink, closed the door and buried his head under his pillow, which hovered about 15 inches above his head.


End file.
